


books of poetry

by nightcore



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Other, and ben loves her so so much, beverly is a lesbian, lesbian!beverly marsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 04:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12473484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcore/pseuds/nightcore
Summary: Beverly Marsh, because she trusts him more than anyone else, comes out as sapphic to Ben Hanscom. Ben does the one thing he knows best: love and support her until the end of time.





	books of poetry

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this was based of a conversation i had w/ rowan (bevmarshed) on tumblr 
> 
> speaking of tumblr it's also published there :p (polaroidstan)

Ben Hanscom would do anything for Beverly Marsh. He had promised himself -- somewhere between the time she introduced herself and the time he wrote his first poem to her -- that he would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant he could see a smile on her face. Maybe it was romantic, maybe it wasn’t; he didn’t put a label on it, he just loved her and he hoped she loved him too.

And she did. It wasn’t romantic love, but she did. She noticed the way his handwriting flowed on the poems he wrote for her, the way he would smile and the way his face got pink, and even the way he was trying everyday to make her happy, even if he was doing his best to hide it. She thought of Ben as a light in the dark: not something bright enough to blind her (like Richie, whom she also loved), but like a small flame, keeping her going even through the darkest nights.

Ben was always there. She would not be alive today, if it were not for him.

Though he, despite everything, was not the first person she would go to if she had a problem. If she needed an escape, she’d run to Richie, with his cigarettes and comedic banter. If she needed advice, it would almost always be Stan, Mike, for emotional support (and the therapy of petting animals, which always helped), etc. 

Today, however, she had needed something different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but she was sure Ben had the answers. Or the solution. Either way, she was sure she needed Ben. She sat, now, in front of his locker. The school bell had rung and students were slowly filing out of the building -- Bev was not worried that he hadn’t shown up, however, because she knew he hid in the bathroom everyday until the crowds dispersed. She didn’t blame him for it. She knew Ben was brave, but she -- above anyone, perhaps -- knew how ruthless their peers could be.

“Ben!” She called, watching his figure appear down the hall. He had his hands full of library books and his hair was a little tousled, but he smiled all the same.

“Hey, Bev,” He sped up, slightly, stopping where she sat, “what’s up?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” As Beverly spoke, Ben carefully stacked the library books in his locker and locked it up again, hands now resting on the straps of his backpack. She pushed herself up, leaning against the lockers before continuing, “but I don’t really wanna say it here, you know?”

Ben nodded, “We can walk to the park together, if you want. I was going to head over there either way, so it’s no trouble at all.”  _ Not that it would be, ever,  _ he thought, silently laughing at himself. 

“That works!” She smiled. Ben’s heart fluttered; only a little.

They kept up small talk as they walked through the halls and down the street; Ben making the occasional joke, smiling whenever Bev’s face lit up with laughter. Bev asked Ben about how his ‘poetry escapades’ were going, and he told her they were better than ever, now that she was his muse. She blushed at that quite a bit.

They walked until they reached a bench in the middle of the park, hidden by the shade of an oak tree. They settled there, Ben sitting on the bench, his backpack lying next to him, and Bev preferring to lie on the grass. Her red hair contrasted the green color so nicely -- Ben almost wished he had Mike’s camera with him, so he could save the way she seemed to glow forever.

“I think,” Bev started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think I like girls, Ben. Maybe even,” her voice got quiet, “I don’t know, love? You’re a lot better with words than I am.”

“Do you… uh, do you mean like, kissing them?”

“Yeah, Ben,” she laughed, mentally comparing her previous statement to what he just said, “Kissing them.” 

She hadn’t turned to face him, still staring up at the clouds as she spoke. Ben noticed how the hue of her face had changed; how her freckles seemed accentuated by the vibrant pink blush she now wore. He wasn’t as shocked by this as he thought he would be -- though he hadn’t really thought about it before, either.

“Are you… okay, with that? Like, are you happy?”

Bev hummed. She hadn’t really thought about that. There was no media for her to look into -- no pictures of girls kissing girls or spending their lives together, so the first time she thought about how cute her classmate Jessie looked in her dress, she didn’t really think anything of it. It wasn’t bad, nor was it good, it was just… something.

“I think so, yeah. It’s lonely, though,” she paused, adjusting her hands behind her head, “I don’t know if you’ll get why.”

“Try me, Beverly.” He laughed. She did, too.

“Alright, alright. It’s like… you always see couples on tv, but they’re always a girl and a guy. There’s nothing wrong with that, I guess, because that’s how most people feel, but it’d be nice to see a girl and a girl sometimes. Or even a guy and a guy! I,” she sighed, “I don’t know, I probably sound ridiculous.”

“No, Bev, you don’t. I kind of understand where you’re coming from, I think.” 

“Maybe one day,” She adjusted her body so she was facing him, smiling wide, “you can write me a poem about it. Two girls, I mean.”

An idea sparked in Ben’s mind. There was a way he could fix this -- a way he could genuinely, actually fix this. He stood up suddenly, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over one of his shoulders. 

“Bev, I have an idea, actually, but you need to come with me.”

She furrowed her brows, but did as he said, curiosity getting the better of her.

He led her away from the park and down the streets, and Bev only took a few moments to notice he was leading her to the library. The entire time he had this look on his face -- one that she could only describe as  _ purpose.  _ Pure, genuine purpose. Like he knew exactly what he had to do, exactly how to do it, and if he didn’t do it right away, his head might explode -- or something equally as ridiculous.

He pulled her through the doors; somewhere during the walk he had grasped her wrist, most likely because she was falling behind; and directed her towards the poetry section. She watched carefully as he scanned over the books, shaking his head and whispering things like ‘ _ no, no, not that’  _ and  _ ‘it has to still be here, right?’.  _

“Why are we -- what are you looking for?” Bev’s last word was interrupted by a shout of joy, Ben reaching up to one of the higher shelves and pulling out a book. It was large, and it looked quite old and dusty, but he held it like it was his prized possession. He handed it to her gently and she traced her fingers over the letters as she read:  _ Poems of Sappho. _

“What’s this?” She asked, looking up from the book.

Ben gestured with his hands wildly as he spoke, “It’s a book of poems! I guess you could get that from the title, really,” he let out a breathy laugh, “She’s -- uh, hm. She likes girls, or liked, I guess, just like you, and she wrote about it a lot. Mike looked into it for me when I picked it up a few months ago, and she literally lived on an isle called  _ Lesbos,  _ if you believe it. My favorite is ‘ _ Awed By Her Splendor’,  _ but there’s a ton I think you’ll like!”

“Ben, I--” She stuttered her words, interrupting Ben’s rambling. Half out of adoration, half out of joy, tears started welling up in her eyes, and she used her free hand to wipe them messily across her face. Ben was looking at her with such a hopeful, kind expression that she almost lost her composure and started sobbing right there.

“Oh, also,” his voice was softer now, “You can borrow one of my notebooks, if you want. So you can save your favorites even after you have to, y’know, return the old thing.”

She nodded, placing the book back on the shelf so the cover was facing out. Ben hesitated for a moment, thinking she was rejecting the ‘gift’ (it felt like too much to call it that, seeing as he’d just picked a book out of the library for her), but she quickly pulled him into a tight hug, hair brushing against his cheek. He could feel the way her face was wet with tears, almost causing a chain reaction.  _ What would a stranger think,  _ he chuckled breathlessly,  _ if they saw us both sobbing in the aisle of a library?  _

“Thank you, Ben.” She pulled away, hands still on his shoulders. “I’m not sure why I -- why I reacted so... strongly, but thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I just… y’know,” his face faded into a beet-red color, “I just didn’t want you to feel alone.”

They stayed there like that for a little while, Bev’s hands gripping Ben’s shoulders and both of them more giddy than ever. Beverly noticed how the flame she had had always described Ben to be was burning brighter than ever before; still soft but noticeable, in all the most perfect ways. It felt as if it would be there forever.

There was comfort in that thought. The thought that, in their far future, when Bev was married to the woman of her dreams and they had settled down for good, Ben would still be there, lighting her way.

_ I just didn’t want you to feel alone. _


End file.
